


The Arkham Narc

by Rambutans



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, gratuitous militia loyalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:09:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambutans/pseuds/Rambutans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Batman takes down Scarecrow and the Knight disappears, a select number of the Knights militia are determined to find out where their commander is so they can get him the hell out of this God forsaken city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Arkham Narc

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally do gen fic, but it's J Todd's birthday and I'm kind of in love with the idea of him having a ruthlessly loyal squad of human attack dogs within his militia.

The Arkham Knight had a Captain named Stevens, but some of the guys called him Shirley because his hair was red and curled like a thousand corkscrews.  Shirley had worked for the Knight since was eighteen.  On some days, he would even venture to say that he knew the Knight personally, and by personally, Shirley meant that he knew how the Knight liked his operations to run, knew his rules, knew his tactics, knew absolutely everything about him that pertained to the militia and its standards, and that once, maybe twice, he’d had an actual conversation with the Knight; one that didn’t regard training, or strategy, one that was about the shit, lukewarm temperature of Henley’s chili, or about that time Jameson got himself stuck in a garbage can in the middle of an occupation and it took three guys to get him out.

When Shirley told people that he knew the Knight personally, what he meant was, the Knight personally knew him, because the Knight made it his business to know everyone working for and under him.  Shirley was fairly confident that every single soldier operating under the Arkham Knight’s command had received personal training from the Arkham Knight himself.  Shirley was absolutely confident that on numerous occasions the Knight had put himself directly in harm’s way to save the lives of his men.  So when Shirley and the Knight had a conversation and it wasn’t about training, or strategy, or Henley’s chili, or the last stupid thing that Jameson did, it was about Shirley’s Mother who lived in Maine and had bad arthritis but no money to move to a warmer climate, or it was about Shirley’s favorite homoerotic film franchise, _Buddy Cops_ , and its latest installation, _Buddy Cops 4: Buddies to Bros_.  What the conversation was never about was whether or not the _Knight_ liked _Buddy Cops_ , or how the _Knight’s_ mother was doing (or if he even had a mother).

Most people in the militia had never even seen the Knight’s _face_.  Shirley had, but it was by accident, and he wasn’t entirely sure that the Knight knew, so he didn’t ask about the scar.  Shirley figured this was probably part of the reason the Knight made such an effort to connect to his men.  It was harder to trust a man who didn’t have a face, but it was easier when they honest to god cared about you, about your family, your children, hell, Shirley had heard that once the Knight offered to pay for some guy’s dog’s vet bill. 

The point being, everybody in the militia knew that the Knight was reliable.  His men were loyal because he was loyal to them.  So when the Knight left the mall, running, _crying_ , basically a complete fucking mess, Shirley couldn’t believe that nobody went after him.  They just defected straight into the hands of that jackass, Deathstroke.

AAAAA

When Batman’s identity was broadcast across Gotham and Scarecrow got a literal taste of his own medicine, Shirley and his squad were patrolling in one the few remaining APC defense rovers through Kingston, listening in.  In less than ten seconds, they all came to roughly the same conclusion.

“Man, fuck Gotham,” Henley said.

“I fucking hate this place,” Jameson groaned.

Carlos, who Shirley thought looked like a fourteen year old, slid down in his seat beside Jameson and said, “All in favor of getting the fuck out of dodge?”

Henley and Jameson were emphatically in favor, but all three of them looked towards Shirley for acquiescence because Shirley was a colonel and he knew the Knight personally, and also, he was driving.

“Comms are practically dead,” Shirley said, and turned into an underground tunnel just to keep them off the streets, because the GCPD had already swarmed Bleake Island and it was only a matter of time before they got to Miagani.

“Yeah, so we’re goin’, right?” Henley asked.

“The Knight’s still out there.” Shirley said.

Jameson said, “Knight can take care of himself.”

Shirley glanced at him in through the rearview mirror.  “You didn’t see him, man.  The Bat already got to Scarecrow.  If we leave now, it’s just a matter of time before he gets to the Knight too.”

The squad was silent and Shirley parked the rover next to an old outpost, then turned around to face them and said, “If it were us he wouldn’t even think about it.  He’d just find us, no questions asked.”

“Jesus,” Henley said, “Who died and made you the Holy Spirit, Shirley?”

“That’s offensive, man.” Carlos, who was a devout Christian, said.

Jameson punched Henley through the space between the seats and said, “You’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

“ _What_?” Henley said, and Shirley started driving again.

AAAAA

On Founders Island, in Drescher, they ran into Dodgson and his squad who pulled up beside them and leaned out of his rover yelling, “What the fuck are you guys still doing here?  The Bat just took in Deathstroke! Everybody else is pullin’ out!”

Jameson crawled halfway out his window and yelled back, “We’re looking for the Knight, asshole!  What are you doing here?”

Dodgson pulled back into his car and muttered something to his squad before sticking his head out again and saying, “We’re lookin’ for the Knight too.  Got any leads?”

After that they reconvened at one of the few remaining undiscovered bases to talk shop.  Dodgson’s second, Santana, rolled out a map of the city and they all went over which bases they knew for sure the militia had lost.  It turned out to be basically all of them.

That was when Carlos pulled up a live footage replay of the incident at Arkham on his phone and pointed to the gun in Scarecrow’s hand and the shackle around Batman’s wrist just before he escaped.

“Somebody shot it man.” He said.  “That gun is nothing, but the shackle?  That’s a precision shot.  Somebody had to have hit that thing at just the right angle, in just the right way to get it to flip open.”

“I only know one guy can make a shot like that,” Dodgson said.

So they made a quick pit stop at the only other operational base on Founder’s Island, managed to get away with a beat up, but still miraculously functioning APC, and high tailed it to Arkham Asylum

They found the Knight walking along the shoulder of the old closed off highway that lead to Arkham Island.  His helmet was flipped up and he seemed not to even notice them until they pulled up right next to him and slid open the side door.

“Hey Knight, you comin’ or what?” Henley asked, hanging out the side of the APC.

The Knight just looked at them for a minute like he wasn’t actually sure who they were.  When he finally spoke his voice sounded hoarse, like he’d screamed himself raw, but he was loud and Shirley could hear him clearly even through the din of Gotham’s Goddamn constant rain.

“I ain’t him anymore.  Get the fuck outa here before Gordon comes after you, you fuckin’ morons.”

Shirley got up, gripped the roof of the APC and leaned out next to Carlos.  “We don’t care what you’re callin’ yourself.  You’re the boss, Boss.  You need a lift, we got a ride.  Wherever you wanna go.”

The Knight’s mouth twitched and he stared past Shirley’s shoulder for a good minute.  Then he said, “I wanna get the fuck out of Gotham.”

This response was met with what Shirley would call a quite frankly rude amount of applause and cheering from his and Dodgon’s squad.

“Listen, I know this place is like your hometown or something,” Henley said as the Knight climbed into their APC. “But honest to God, this place is a shit hole.”

“And it _smells_ like a shit hole,” Jameson added.  “Do they even _have_ public waste management in Gotham?”

“Actually,” the Knight said, sitting down next to Shirley with a heavy _thud_ , “there was about a month or so a few years back when the whole waste management department shut down because Joker kept putting motion sensor bombs in people’s trash cans and blowing up all of the city’s garbage trucks.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Carlos said, from the front of the APC, and then kissed the cross round his neck.  “I would rather be in hell than in this city.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case anybody wondered, here are the other installments in the Buddy Cops series.
> 
> Buddy Cops: The Original Motion Picture
> 
> Buddy Cops 2: Buddies Before Druggies
> 
> Buddy Cops 3: Buddy On the Streets, Narc In the Sheets
> 
> Buddy Cops 4: Buddies to Bros


End file.
